Face Down
by stetsonblack
Summary: When Harvey first saw the kid in the hallway, smiling timidly against the bruises on his face, he didn't pay him much mind. But when the kid won't leave him alone, Harvey discovers he might actually enjoy his company. Too bad his boyfriend down the hall doesn't approve.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning for: slash, domestic abuse, mentions of rape and violence, and bad language**

**This story only happened because of faulty air conditioning and fever dreams. And it only got finished thanks to the hard work of EvavH. Thanks so much awesome, you rock! I'd originally intended this as a oneshot...it appears I fail at following my goals...Anyway, readers, please enjoy!**

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Harvey came upstairs to the usual hush of his massive apartment building. On the top floor there were only a couple of other tenants, and he passed both their doors on his way from the elevators. His private elevator was nice, but he usually only used it to impress his dates. He liked the walk down the quiet hallway; it separated him from the rest of the world while the glass elevator placed him atop it.

Harvey's home was at the back of the hallway, so he had to pass the other two doors each time to get there. The first tenant on the floor was opposite the stairs, and much like Harvey, they were hardly ever home. The next door belonged to some photographer/artist/architect. Harvey couldn't remember what he did and he didn't really care to. He had only ever seen him emerge a handful of times, and they'd interacted on even fewer occasions.

He passed both doors and made his way to his own residence. Once inside, he set about making dinner and selecting programs from his television to watch, when he heard a loud thud coming from next door. Despite the sound-proofed walls, this wasn't an altogether unusual occurrence. His neighbor—the artist or whatever he was—was constantly producing loud noises, so Harvey paid it little mind and resumed his television watching.

After a few hours of viewing mindless television, he'd found himself unable to actually detach his mind from his work. Bylaws, briefs, and contracts still filled his head and were threatening a migraine. Longing for some peace of mind, he got dressed in workout clothes and headed for the downstairs gym.

He locked his apartment door and turned to head downstairs for the gym when he was met with a rather unexpected sight.

There was a raggedly dressed twenty-something-year old sitting on the floor outside the neighbor's door. He looked rather dejected as he slumped hunched against the wall. Much like the owner of the apartment, this kid looked like he belonged in some back alley somewhere, though he was considerably more attractive than Harvey remembered the tenant being-too scrawny for his own taste, but still nice to look at.

The man looked up at Harvey as he noticed he was being watched. Harvey thought his blue eyes looked a little watery, but then remembered he didn't care and resumed his walk to the gym. He passed by the kid, who gave him a weak and hesitant smile, tucking his legs further into himself so Harvey could walk by.

Harvey frowned back at him and took the stairs down. When he came back up, the hall was empty, and he was exhausted from his full workout. He forgot about the skinny blond.

…

Days passed before Harvey saw him again. This time it was late in the evening after Harvey had stayed extra hours in the office in an attempt to salvage a case his associate had almost ruined. He was trudging up to his apartment when he passed the blond in the hallway again. He was camped out in the same spot by the second door, looking like he'd been told his puppy had died. Harvey eyed him with the usual disapproving frown, and the kid gave him that same tentative smile.

When Harvey decided a late night gym excursion would successfully tire him out, the kid was still there in the hallway. The same frown/smile exchange took place as he passed, and again when Harvey returned.

The only thing he could come up with was that the kid was some relation of the annoying architect. He stopped thinking about it altogether when he remembered that he didn't care.

…

They settled into a sort of routine. Harvey would pass the kid in the hall for his nightly gym visit, they would exchange their opposing expressions, repeat the process as Harvey returned, and never speak any words.

Harvey grew so used to this routine that it actually confused him for a minute or two when he went out for one of his midnight workout sessions and found the hallway empty.

He reminded himself that he didn't care and started walking for the stairs. But as he passed by the neighbor's door he heard shouts and soft thuds. He stopped—listening in the hallway to what he hoped wasn't some sort of murder or domestic violence. He was too tired, and he convinced himself that not only was it none of his business, but it was probably just a movie playing too loud.

He went downstairs and didn't think about it again.

…

The next day was his day off. Usually, he went out and got some gorgeous woman who would be dazzled with his charming good looks, charming smile, and of course, his glass elevator. But recently, work had been too stressful. He just wanted to sit on his couch and watch old Star Trek reruns.

So it came as little a surprise to Harvey when his peaceful solitude was interrupted by a knock on his door. It was the meekest knock he'd ever heard, and he was actually amazed he'd heard it over the loud Theremin playing the theme to Star Trek.

He placed his beer on the coffee table (on a coaster, of course) and angrily approached the door. Through the peephole he could see the blond kid, nervously shuffling his feet, and it looked like he was carrying something.

Harvey sighed and rolled his eyes. He could just ignore it. He _should_just ignore it. But for some reason unknown to him, he opened the door.

He didn't say a word, just glared at the blond.

"Hi, um, I…I'm Mike. Ross. Mike Ross. Heh. I uh, well—"

"I assume there's a reason you're annoying me?" Harvey prompted helpfully with a deceptive smile.

Mike froze, something not entirely unlike terror flashing across his face before he masked it with that same weak smile Harvey was so used to seeing. He held up the item he'd been holding, which appeared to be a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Harvey eyed them with disdain.

"They're cookies," he prompted dryly.

Harvey thought Mike shook a little as he continued, forced cheer in his now slightly trembling voice. "They're for you. I thought, since I always see you in the hall, it was silly that we didn't say anything, and I always make too many. They're made from my grandma's—"

Harvey shut the door in his face.

The next morning when he left for the office he nearly killed himself trying not to step on a plate piled high with the chocolate chip concoction. The kid had just left it outside Harvey's door, a napkin atop it with a hand-drawn smiley face written in sharpie. Harvey rolled his eyes and retrieved the cookies, replacing them on the floor where the blond usually sat in the hall. He tore the napkin in half for good measure, not sure why the smiley face bothered him so much.

…

Mike didn't appear for a couple of weeks after that, and Harvey hoped it meant he'd taken the unsubtle hint that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. The cookies had gotten the message through quite well, Harvey thought, until another day off found him and his science fiction marathon ruined by another meek knock.

The peephole showed Mike standing with another plate of cookies. Harvey collected his anger and squashed it down before tearing open the door. The motion startled Mike and he nearly dropped the plate he was holding.

"Hi. I figured maybe you didn't like chocolate chip, so I made some oatmeal ones."

Before Mike could say anything else, Harvey decided decisive action was needed. He grabbed the plate from Mike, causing the man to give him a beaming smile and a rushed "thank you" that he never managed to finish. Harvey shoved the plate back into the Mike's hands with great force, causing some of the cookies to fly off the plate. He said, in a rather calm and steady tone, "Mike. Go home," before he slammed his door and sank back onto the couch.

He was fairly certain Mike got the message that time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Especially since this story was a bit of a pain in the behind, it means a lot to me that you readers are enjoying it! I hope you like this bit and sorry for the wait!**

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Harvey no longer saw Mike in the hallway, nor did he receive any surprise visits or cookie offerings outside his door. It was almost strange now, going down to the gym without passing the kid in the hallway, like there was something missing from his life.

Every once in a while he would hear those shouts and noises as he passed by his neighbor's, but not once did he ever stop. It wasn't his business, and he didn't care. He was perfectly content to never have to see Mike in that hallway again.

At least, that's what he told himself.

So it came as a surprise that he was flooded with mixed emotions of longing, joy, and anger when he next saw Mike.

Harvey had been on his way home from a party Jessica had made him go to, and he had ended his night very well with one of the higher caste models named Victoria. He had decided to walk back from her place to his own building, since it was only a few blocks over. The night air was freezing, and snow had started to gently tumble down from the dark sky. He tugged his coat tighter around him.

When he got to his building's front door, he was startled by a shape leaning against the foundation. Harvey eyed it distastefully, expecting it to be one of the rare beggars that occasionally showed up in this part of town. But the shape shifted and let out an involuntary shudder, and Harvey recognized the blue eyes that flashed up at him unfocused.

"Mike?" he asked in disbelief. The kid, while clearly fond of sitting in hallways and on the ground, couldn't have voluntarily placed himself outside in this kind of weather. He was definitely not dressed for it. His sneakers were more raggedy pieces of cloth stuck together with duct tape than they were actual shoes, and he was only wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He was sitting in what Harvey knew was a heat vent from the laundry room in the basement, which is the only reason he wasn't frozen yet.

The kid looked up at him dazedly, slowly recognizing Harvey in the darkness. "Mr. Specter? Oh, I, uh, I forgot my key?"

This kid was a terrible liar, and Harvey would have found his futile attempt amusing if he wasn't so sure the kid was suffering from mild hypothermia.

But he let him have the lie anyway. He wasn't sure if he was actually succumbing to the jumble of feelings he was experiencing, or if he was just too lazy to force the truth. Probably the latter.

He unlocked the front door and held it open, pointedly looking at Mike. The kid slowly rose, clutching the wall for support before stumbling into the lobby's suffocating warmth. Harvey tugged his now overly warm coat off and, after a second, threw it around Mike's shoulders. He didn't want to deal with a corpse on his hands, was all.

Mike shook in the coat and numbly stood in the lobby. Harvey pushed the elevator button and determinedly didn't ask any of the questions he should have. They burned in the back of his mind, but he forced himself for once to not press.

The elevator opened and Harvey stepped in, jabbing the door open button when Mike didn't follow.

"Coming?" he asked tersely.

Mike stared, like he wasn't aware of what had been happening. He looked at the elevator for a long minute before shuffling forward. They rode up in silence.

When they got to the top floor, Mike didn't move from the elevator threshold. He just stared holes into the second door, like he was seriously considering something.

Harvey gently pushed him out of the elevator car and headed for his own door.

When he closed it from inside, Mike was still standing there in the hall.

…

A day later, when Harvey opened his door to head down for work he was almost killed by another ill placed plate of cookies. This time there was no napkin with doodled emoticons on it, but a folded piece of paper.

Harvey sighed and retrieved the note, leaving the cookies on the floor. The note read:

_Mr. Specter-_

_Thanks for your coat. You'll get it back when it's done at the cleaners. I know how much you hated the oatmeal ones, so I stuck with the traditional recipe. Scott never eats them anyway,_

_-Mike Ross_

Harvey reread the note. The line Mike had crossed out was bothering him. "Scott never eats them anyway." It was scribbled over liberally, and Harvey had to tilt it in the light to see the impression of the ink to read it. Scott must be the neighbor. The name sounded right, from what little Harvey remembered about him. He didn't know why he was paying attention to that line or to the note at all. He should just put the plate back in the hallway by Scott's door like he did the first time.

But something made Harvey stop. He didn't know if it was Mike's blue eyes, looking sadly up at him, or the way he'd stared resignedly at the door last night, Harvey's coat draped over him as he shivered from the cold. It could have been guilt or a sliver of feeling left in Harvey's cold heart. He didn't know and he didn't really want to know. But he picked up the plate of cookies and hovered them over his counter.

What was he supposed to do with a big pile of sweets? He couldn't possibly eat them all, and he didn't really want any in the first place. In the end, he tossed the whole lot in his trash can and put the empty plate down in Mike's spot. At least it _looked _like he'd taken the damned things.

Not that he cared.

…

A day later he opened his door to find his coat hanging on the stair rail, pressed and cleaned and safe on a hangar from a dry cleaners he didn't recognize.

That night, he saw Mike again in the hallway on his way to the gym. They did their usual exchange, and it was like nothing had ever happened. Only, Mike's smile looked a little brighter than it had before.

…

Harvey stepped out of his apartment, shutting the door and turning to give his usual endearing frown to Mike. But something was off.

Mike was there, but his face was downcast. When Harvey walked by, Mike didn't even look at him. Harvey spotted a few wet marks on the knees of his jeans, and a red area on the kid's cheek that he recognized as a mark from an experienced boxer.

But Mike clearly didn't want to share, so Harvey left him to his solitude. When he got back from the gym, Mike was gone.

…

Harvey found Mike squatting outside the building by the heat vent again. He was wearing even thinner clothes than before, and his lips had started to turn blue.

There was snow on the ground, and the sky was dumping sleet on them.

Harvey had been planning on going out that night, but he changed his mind the second he saw that familiar shape.

"Mike," he called softly, hunched into his coat to avoid the chill and the wet.

The blond didn't respond. He was quietly shivering, huddled before the vent in a futile attempt to stay warm. Harvey didn't need to be able to see to know that he was soaked to the bone.

He gently touched the kid's shoulder, forcing himself not to flinch when it felt like ice. Blue eyes turned up at him, and Harvey's initial fear that he'd gone into hypothermic shock disappeared. The kid probably hadn't been out here that long. It was just that cold. He shuddered to think what would have happened to Mike if he had decided to skip straight to the bar.

Mike's face sported a new bruise, a split lip, and the saddest eyes Harvey had ever seen.

He stepped back and opened the door, waiting for Mike to stand and stagger into the warm lobby. Mike didn't move.

Harvey made sure the door didn't shut and wrapped an arm around Mike's shoulders. With a heave he managed to lift Mike to his feet. The kid wasn't the heaviest thing he'd felt, but he wasn't light either.

With some effort he managed to deposit Mike on his couch, generously forgiving him for ruining the leather with his wet clothes.

Harvey got a blanket and threw it over him.

After a minute of staring at each other, Mike finally spoke. "Can I use your shower?" It came out much less intelligently due to the uncontrollable chattering of his teeth, but Harvey got the gist of it.

"Go ahead. You can pick something comfortable out of the closet."

Ten minutes later, Mike emerged wearing some gym shorts and a raggedy old Harvard T-shirt that Harvey didn't even know he'd still owned. What was wrong with the kid? Did he actually _like _wearing clothes with holes in them?

"Thanks. I should go." Mike balled up his wet clothes and reached for his tattered sneakers like he was in a hurry.

Harvey reclined further on the couch where he'd been the entire time watching TV. He sipped his beer and before he knew it he was asking Mike to stay. "Want to watch?"

"I really can't," Mike said, but he stopped moving to gaze longingly at the empty space on Harvey's couch.

"It's _Mississippi Burning_."

Mike put his things down and approached the couch. "I really should go."

"Want a beer?"

"Better not," he said and sat down, awkwardly rigid.

Harvey handed him his beer and stood to retrieve another from his fridge. He started a bag of popcorn while he was at it. It almost surprised him that in the five minutes he was gone, Mike had gone from almost leaving to reposing comfortably on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

"You like _Mississippi Burning?_" Harvey asked in a bored tone.

"Know every line," Mike answered casually, like it was a fact and not a boast.

Harvey handed over the popcorn and they sat through the entire film in a comfortable manner.

When the credits began to roll, Mike blearily blinked at him and asked what the time was. He was up in a second at Harvey's answer.

"Oh, God. He's gonna kill me. I shouldn't have stayed. Stupid. Stupid!"

"Mike—"

"I have to go. Thanks, really. This was…it was really nice. I'll pay you back for the beer, and I'll clean your clothes and all. I just. I really have to go." He scooped up his clothes and shoes and was gone before Harvey could process what he'd said.

Pay him back for the beer? It's one beer. This kid…there was something seriously wrong going on, and Harvey knew it.

He stayed awake all night, pretending he couldn't hear the loud noises and shouts coming from next door through the 'soundproofed' walls.


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow, what awesome wonderful reviews I've gotten! Thanks so much! I honestly meant to post this earlier, but...well, I wasn't near my computer. Sorry guys. This one's a bit longer, so I hope you'll forgive me. Enjoy!**

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A few nights later, Harvey managed to drag himself out of the office. Were it his old associate days, he would have simply stayed the night, but he had to keep up the appearance that he didn't need to work as hard anymore. So, with the combined glaring power of Jessica and Donna, he had found himself trudging wearily home.

When he escaped the howling wind of the blizzard descending upon the streets of New York, he dusted the snow off his briefcase, and checked inside to make sure all the files were safe. He figured he could start getting back to work on the ride up the elevator.

He stepped inside and began perusing the files, noticing only after he'd read the third fifty-word sentence that the door hadn't closed and he was still on the first floor.

He didn't even think about taking his private elevator until he had climbed the fourth floor stairs. Considering how many floors were in his building, he decided it was actually faster to head down and use the elevator than to climb all the way up. With a sigh, he quickly stuffed the case files under his arm and whirled back down.

When he'd made it into his apartment finally, he settled in for the long haul on his couch, files spread around him. This was going to take him awhile.

…

Harvey was roused from his nap by a knocking on his door. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he stretched slowly. And then realized he had fallen asleep when he should have been working.

The knock sounded again and Harvey had a feeling he knew who it was. Mike _had _said he'd return Harvey's clothes, after all. And despite the kid's weird need to pay Harvey back for every kindness he was given, Harvey wondered why Mike was bothering to knock. Previous experience had told Harvey to simply expect a plate of lethally placed cookies outside his door and his clothes, pressed and cleaned, hanging from the stair bannister.

With a tired groan, he lifted himself off his couch and opened the door. Mike was standing in the doorway, head down and eyes scanning a bunch of papers that looked strangely familiar.

"Mike?" Harvey asked patiently.

With a small startle, Mike looked up and blinked like he'd only just now noticed that Harvey was there. "Oh, um, you're a lawyer, right?"

Harvey frowned. Usually people who asked him that question wanted some sort of handout. "Why?"

"I think you dropped this," Mike said, handing Harvey the stack of papers.

Harvey retrieved them quickly, noticing they were from different folders. It would be a nightmare to return them to their proper places. "Thanks," he said and noticed Mike still standing there expectantly. "Wait," he said, remembering that the only place he could have dropped them was on the stairs, "the elevator's broken."

"Yeah, the maintenance guys said it would be fixed by tomorrow," Mike added cheerfully.

"You took the stairs all the way up?" Harvey asked, suddenly extremely appreciative of his personal elevator.

Mike shrugged. "It's not that far."

"It's twenty floors."

Mike looked uncomfortable suddenly. "So...um, what's the case about?"

Harvey couldn't help eyeing Mike's lithe figure, wondering where the muscles were hidden in the scrawny body. "It's confidential."

"Oh, right," said Mike who was now shuffling his feet.

Harvey narrowed his eyes at him. "Mike, how long ago did you find these?" He held up the papers.

"Only about ten minutes ago. Promise." He looked honest enough, so Harvey decided to let it go. He'd probably looked at the legalese and gotten a headache before remembering Harvey was a lawyer and it must belong to him.

Harvey doesn't know what made him offer, but the words were out of his mouth before he could take them back. "Want to come in?"

Mike looked pleasantly surprised. "Sure it's okay? You aren't too busy?"

Harvey was, but he was going to fall asleep if he had to look at files alone for another second. "I've got some work but I need a break." He stepped back and left the door open for Mike to follow. He didn't miss the way Mike glanced nervously over to Scott's door before closing Harvey's behind him.

Harvey made his way over to the couch and started clearing a space for Mike to sit. "Have you eaten anything?"

Mike sat rigidly on the couch before stumbling out some nonsense about how Harvey didn't have to feed him or something.

"Well, I'm hungry," Harvey interrupted. "And I can't eat a whole pizza by myself, so what kind do you want?"

"Uh, whatever's fine," Mike managed. When Harvey stared impatiently at him, he finally got the truth. "Well, have you ever had the kind with the cheese _in _the crust?"

Harvey chuckled. "You mean the one that's made entirely of cholesterol?"

"But it's awesome," Mike defended.

"Fine. I'll get the heart-attack inducing pizza," Harvey laughed.

After he ordered the pizza, Harvey returned to the couch to find Mike perusing the files and rummaging through the papers. Mike didn't seem to notice Harvey's angry gaze.

As Harvey tried to decide whether or not to yell at Mike or to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, he noticed that Mike wasn't even reading the pages. Instead, he was scanning them, glancing at them and then moving on to the page underneath, then jumping over to another pile.

Harvey cleared his throat and Mike knocked over a pile of papers at the noise. "Mr. Specter! Uh, I'm sorry."

"What were you doing?" Harvey asked curiously as Mike scrambled to pick up the scattered mess.

"Nothing. Just...I...uh..." When Harvey didn't answer, Mike tried again. It seemed to be a good tactic so Harvey filed it away for later. "There were some inconsistencies with some of the files."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Maybe I should go," Mike muttered, beginning to stand.

Harvey moved to block Mike's exit. "It's Harvey," he said. Mike blinked at him. "My name. Stop calling me Mr. Specter. The only person who calls me that is my tailor, and you doing that would be a crime against fashion."

Mike let out a small involuntary giggle even as he looked offended at Harvey's insult to his clothing choice.

"And the pizza's not here yet. You promised you'd help me eat it and I need someone present in case the crust sends me into cardiac arrest," Harvey joked. "Now, want to watch a movie?"

Mike smiled that brilliantly adorable smile of his and nodded before sinking back onto Harvey's couch.

"_Back to the Future_?" Harvey asked a minute later, waving the blu-ray case at Mike. When he didn't respond, Harvey smacked him lightly on the head with the thing.

Mike didn't protest, just rubbed at his head a little and frowned, eyes unfocused, and clearly lost in thought.

"Hey McFly! Come in McFly!" Harvey yelled at him, tapping on his head a few more times in the spirit of Biff.

Mike laughed before waving Harvey's hand away. "Sorry. Was just thinking."

"About?" Harvey asked as he bent to pop the disc in the player.

"Just the fact that the bylaws have a huge glaring loophole in them that Sherman & Co. have been exploiting for the past ten years or so. At least according to their expense accounts, anyway," Mike rambled.

Harvey stared at him in awe. Actual awe. He'd been studying those files all day and part of the previous one looking for the evidence that Sherman & Co. had been stealing funds, and here this kid had supposedly come to the same conclusion after glancing at a few scattered pages. "There's no possible way you can know that."

Mike startled, as if he hadn't realized he'd said all he had aloud. "That's right. I should really go."

"How did you know? Show me the loophole."

"It's on," and Mike's eyes went slightly out of focus for a moment, "page six of that pile." He pointed hesitantly to a stack of papers near Harvey.

Harvey pulled out page six and browsed for the loophole. He had to read it twice before he saw what Mike had. There it was, staring him in the face the whole time. "Mike. How did you know that?"

The kid coughed nervously and looked away. "I'm sorry. I know you said not to read it, but I couldn't help it."

Harvey wasn't angry, but it seemed Mike was most loose-lipped under the threat of verbal attack, so Harvey tried to seem as mad as possible. "If I'd wanted an excuse, I'd have asked for one. Why'd you read it if you knew not to?"

"I'm sorry. I only glanced at it. I really didn't mean to. Can we watch the movie now?" Mike let out in a rush.

Harvey eyed him suspiciously, but acquiesced. Maybe the kid really had only glanced at it and found that loophole. Harvey thought there was more to it, but he didn't need to scare the kid to find out. Besides, finding out meant being interested, and being interested meant caring. And he was fairly sure he'd done enough of that for the evening. "Sure. Pizza'll be here soon, anyway."

They settled in on the couch and soon enough, the pizza arrived and Marty was back in 1955 and causing trouble.

Halfway through the movie, when most of the pizza had been devoured (most of it by Mike), they found themselves quoting the lines along with the movie, an act that Harvey normally condemned as bad movie etiquette. But with Mike, it was more like a challenge. The kid knew every line perfectly.

Mike began looking at his watch around the time lightning struck the clock tower. He was looking more and more nervous, but didn't ask to stop the film. When it was over and the credits were rolling, and Harvey stood to clean up, Mike came to help him.

"What are you doing?" Harvey asked him.

"Helping?" Mike explained, like it was the most obvious, expected act in the world.

"No you're not. Go sit down."

Mike looked at his watch again before following Harvey's orders with a frown.

"Have somewhere you need to be?" Harvey asked, tired of Mike's botched attempts at being discreet.

The blond head shot up looking panicked. "No! Well, I mean...sort of. But I don't want to...I just..."

Harvey leaned forward over the sink where he was scrubbing their plates, wondering why the thought of Mike leaving was bothering him so much. "Mike..."

"Yeah?" God, the kid sounded so hopeful. Harvey, despite himself, felt comfortable around this kid. He didn't have to be Harvey Specter, lawyer extraordinaire. He could just be Harvey. Even around Donna he was never this comfortable. Mike just felt..._right_.

"You can come back. I've got a lot of movies we can watch." Harvey wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he felt a pang of fearful anticipation as he waited for Mike's response. He was certain the kid would be elated at the prospect of returning, but still he felt worried. Interesting.

"Okay. When should I...?"

"Tomorrow."

Mike nodded and gathered up his things. "Thanks, Mr. Spect-Harvey. Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Night, kid," Harvey said, waving a soapy hand in the general direction of Mike. The blond gave him the brightest smile Harvey had ever seen and after a few more stammered "thank you"s, was gone.

Harvey couldn't explain the happiness he felt when Mike showed up the next night and the next.

…

When Mike showed up one night with a bruise on one eye and a plate of cookies, explaining to Harvey that he couldn't do movie night anymore, Harvey didn't respond. He just stared at Mike's eye and glared at Scott's door until Mike was done making excuses.

Harvey eventually had to cut him off. "I have work to do anyway," he said curtly.

"I'm sorry." Mike looked like he had been crying for hours and at Harvey's short, indifferent response, looked about to be sobbing again.

"Whatever," Harvey said, closing the door.

It was only because he was too angry to move from the door immediately that he heard it: Mike's muted voice saying through a forced-back sob, "I can't see you anymore."

Harvey reminded himself that he'd never really cared in the first place and that Mike was more of an annoyance than anything else.

He would be happier without the kid.


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks later, Harvey was working on some bylaws over takeout and a whiskey when the knock came at his door. He ignored the bad feeling that suddenly settled in his stomach, and answered it.

Mike stood in the hallway, soaked through his thin coat with snow still melting in his hair and on his shoulders, looking frantically between the elevator and Harvey's door.

"Mike?" Harvey asked, holding back a curse when he got a good look at the bruise on Mike's left cheek.

Mike focused his attention on Harvey finally, though his eyes kept darting all over the place. "Hi. Sorry. Can I come in?"

Harvey gave him a frown, peering back towards the elevator curiously. Was Mike running from something?

Mike seemed to rethink his question at Harvey's imperious frown and fearfully started to back away. "Sorry. Never mind. Didn't mean to bother you."

The elevator dinged and Mike darted under Harvey's arm to cower behind him. Harvey ignored this for the moment, wondering what could possibly arrive in the elevator.

The car doors opened slowly and Mike grabbed hold of Harvey's shirt, his fingers digging into Harvey's back. Harvey instinctively squared his shoulders, feeling oddly protective.

A man stepped out of the elevator, elderly and hunched over in his trench coat and hat, grocery bag in his arm. It was the floor's third tenant.

Mike leaned his forehead on Harvey's back in what Harvey assumed was relief. Harvey refused to recognize the warm feeling this caused in his chest, and instead moved to shut his door.

Mike stepped back suddenly as Harvey turned, his face lighting up red in shame and embarrassment.

"Want to tell me why I was used as a shield from Mr. Perkins?" Harvey asked, crossing his arms. The last conversation they had involved Mike telling him they couldn't see each other again. It wasn't exactly like they were on friendly terms anymore.

Mike shuffled his feet and looked everywhere except at Harvey. "I thought it was…someone else."

"Mmhmm. Is that the same someone else that gave you that black eye?" Harvey asked tersely.

Mike's head snapped up, eyes finally locking on to Harvey's. He shook his head vigorously but said nothing.

Harvey sighed. "Fine. It's not my business anyway." He swung his door open and gestured for Mike to leave. The blond paled and took a quick step back at the action.

"I…"

Harvey made a shooing motion; his patience was wearing thin and he didn't like the feelings this kid was stirring in him.

Mike swallowed audibly and shuffled reluctantly forward. As he passed, Harvey could hear the shivering and chattering of his teeth, and something almost akin to guilt struck him. He angrily pushed his door closed before Mike could leave and the kid looked up at him, startled.

"Let me get you a towel before you freeze to death," Harvey grumbled and moved to pull a towel from his cupboard.

When he came back, Mike was still standing in the foyer looking like a lost, drowned puppy. Harvey tossed him the towel and it hit him in the face.

"Nice catch."

"Thanks," came the muffled reply.

Harvey left Mike to his own devices and wandered into his kitchen to boil some water. Maybe some hot tea would do the kid good, and then after he was dry and warm and not in danger of becoming a frostbitten corpse, Harvey could kick him out.

When he finished making the tea, he found Mike sitting awkwardly on the couch, his wet coat and shoes removed and neatly stowed in the foyer, the towel around his shoulders. In the soft lighting, the bruise on his cheek was more obvious, the mottled colors heightened in the tungsten glow.

Harvey handed Mike a mug of tea and sat beside him on the couch. It reminded him of the time they'd spent together watching and quoting movies. Harvey had missed this.

"Thank you."

Harvey grunted a reply before downing a big gulp of the steaming tea. Mike wrapped his hands around the warm porcelain and inhaled the steam, but didn't drink.

"It's not poisoned," Harvey said gently.

Mike startled. "Huh?"

"The tea."

"Oh." He nodded, but still didn't take a draft. Harvey sighed and went back to mentally preparing the bylaws he'd been working on, sifting idly through the pile of file folders on his coffee table.

"It was my fault."

Harvey looked up, unsure if he'd really heard the whispered words from the man next to him.

"It was my fault," Mike repeated.

Harvey felt sick. "So he hits you and you blame yourself?" he asked in disgust.

Mike shook. "He wouldn't have hit me if I had just…"

"Just what, Mike? What terrible excuse did he give you?"

The blond curled inward, the mug squeezed tightly in his hands despite the burn of the liquid's heat. "He loves me. That's all that matters."

Harvey wanted to vomit. He wanted to throw something. He'd heard this story a thousand times before, but never had it made him so angry. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" He poked his finger into Mike's bruise, eliciting a soft cry of pain from the man. "This is how much he loves you, Mike."

Mike hunched over for a second, taking a sobbing breath, before putting his mug down and standing and marching to the foyer.

"Where are you going?" Harvey demanded, angry now.

"I shouldn't be here. He'll be mad if he finds out." Mike was stuffing his feet into his ragged shoes and shrugging into his sopping wet coat.

"Stop." Harvey stood behind him, glaring. "Mike, stop!" When his words went unheeded, Harvey grabbed Mike by the arm and pulled him around to face him.

Mike flinched away violently, shoving himself against the wall and thrusting his hands before him defensively.

Harvey froze, horrified at the reaction he'd caused.

Mike let out a tired and nervous sniffle, and it took Harvey a second to realize Mike was crying.

"I'm s-sorry," Mike pleaded in a soft whisper.

Harvey slowly approached and gently placed his hands on Mike's wrists, pulling his arms down to his sides. He wasn't entirely sure what he had been planning on doing, but it seemed his body had moved of its own accord. And now that he was this close, he knew exactly what he wanted—what he'd wanted since he'd first seen the tuft of blond hair in the hallway on his way to the gym.

Mike's blue eyes were rimmed in red, leaking silent tears as he looked up in surprise at Harvey, who leaned in and softly placed a kiss on his lips. It was the tenderest kiss Harvey could ever remember giving, and yet it was somehow perfect. He felt Mike relax into him, give him control.

It was a perfect moment.

At least, it was until Mike pulled away suddenly. He gave Harvey a deeply confused and terrified look before pulling open the door and darting out.

Harvey didn't call after him, just stood there in the foyer, wondering why he'd kissed the kid, and why he'd enjoyed it so much.

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**Oh the angst! Sorry to leave you all there! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! *blushes* Enjoy!**

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Harvey hadn't seen Mike since he'd kissed him. He hadn't heard the typical loud noises coming from next door; hadn't seen the shadowed figure huddling in the heat vent for a week.

He didn't really know why he'd kissed Mike. He didn't even know the kid very well, other than that he liked movies and stuffed-crust pizza and beer and raggedy clothes. But something about him had made Harvey feel protective of him, which, if he thought about it, should have made Mike more like a little brother.

But it didn't. Mike was something more and Harvey didn't know what. And it almost was enough to scare him.

He went to work like normal. He won. He came home. He went to the gym. And he didn't see the blond mess of hair once.

Until, at the end of the week, he was surprised to see a scrawny blue-eyed kid stomping into his office. How he'd gotten past security (and Donna), Harvey had no clue.

"Mike? What are you—"

"Why did you do it?" Mike asked, eyes bright in anger.

"What?" Harvey deflected. He was never caught off his guard, but Mike seemed to be the exception to the rule.

"Were you trying to—" Mike started but stopped just as quickly. "What do you want from me?"

Harvey took a deep breath. He'd never seen Mike act so fiercely. On the contrary, the kid was usually timid and shy. He wondered if he alone had caused Mike's ire.

From behind the furious figure of Mike Ross, Harvey could see Donna asking him a multitude of silent questions. He shook his head minutely, hoping she'd hold off on calling security.

Harvey focused his attention on Mike's face. He could see the man's jaw clenching, the way his eyes showed panic beneath the rage. "I don't know," he said calmly, hoping Mike would calm down. His office was starting to attract curious glances from passerby despite Donna's glares.

"You made it very clear that you didn't want anything to do with me!"

Harvey frowned. He wasn't going to be made the villain here. "I took your stupid cookies, didn't I? I let you defrost on my couch and borrow my clothes and have some of my beer."

"So that's what this is about?" Mike shouted, throwing his arms out in incredulity. "You wanted repayment for the beer and the clothes?!"

"What?!" Harvey shouted back. _Jesus! What did that asshole do to this kid?_ "No!"

"Well what then? What do you want?!"

"You!" Harvey yelled forcefully, finally losing his temper. It was only the stunned silence that followed that allowed Harvey to fully process what he'd said. But he couldn't bring himself to take it back.

Mike seemed to deflate slowly, pacing for a few seconds before sinking miserably onto Harvey's couch. He put his head in his hands and Harvey resisted the urge to go to him.

"Mike," he called softly instead.

"Don't. It's not fair." His shoulders started to shake and Harvey knew he was crying. "I'm so fucking confused!"

"Mike," Harvey tried again. "Don't go back there. Whatever you do, just don't go back to him."

Mike's chest heaved, but when he lifted his head, the only evidence of his tears was the redness of his eyes. "I…"

"Please."

"I have to—I have to go," Mike said, but didn't stand.

"Stay," Harvey urged, taking a step forwards towards the vulnerable kid on his couch.

"He loves me." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"He doesn't…"

"He does!" Mike shouted, springing to his feet. "You don't even know him! He loves me."

Harvey couldn't let Mike leave, not if he was just going to run back to that violent bastard. He grabbed for Mike's hand as Mike started to stalk off, but caused a similar reaction to the one he'd gotten just before he'd kissed him.

"_He_ did that to you, Mike! Don't be an idiot!"

"An idiot?" Mike scrunched up his eyes as if in pain and wrenched his hand from Harvey's. "Leave me alone." He scrambled for the door.

"Fine! Just don't come crying to me the next time he hurts you!" Harvey shouted as Mike fled the office.

He was left with the awkward silence of the thing as he finally noticed the few gawkers in the hallway start to move once more. Donna ran in and he sank back into his chair.

"What the hell was that?" she asked him.

"Hell if I know," he said and poured himself a generous portion of scotch.

"Harvey," she asked more gently.

"Just forget about it. It doesn't matter anymore," he muttered to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Days passed and Harvey tried to forget about Mike. He tried miserably to think about anything other than the man and the look of pain and hurt on his face as he'd stormed out of Harvey's office.

Harvey felt disgust at the fact that Mike had gone back to Scott. And he'd felt guilt for letting it happen.

It was three days after their fight in the office that Harvey had finally managed to push thoughts of Mike into the back of his mind. He was settled into his couch to do some work when a frantic knocking reverberated through his apartment.

Recalling the last time he'd heard such a sound, he debated about answering it. It could be Mike. But did he really want to open that door? He'd told Mike to stay away from him, after all. Shouldn't he follow through on that?

With a groan, Harvey walked to the door with not too little haste and tugged it free, intending to yell rudely at the man behind it.

But instead, he found himself catching the body that was falling into his arms. He heard a shout coming from Scott's apartment, and without giving it a real thought, Harvey dragged the body inside and quietly as he could, shut his own door.

The body in his arms started quivering and it took Harvey a moment to realize that it wasn't just from tears.

Mike sagged in Harvey's arms, shoulders shaking in an eerie mix of sobbing and laughter. Harvey deposited the man on his couch and flipped another light switch on to better assess the kid's condition.

Mike's face was a mess. There was blood dripping down his nose, his lip was split, and there was dried blood trailing down the right side of his hairline. His T-shirt was ripped, his jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, and he wasn't wearing any shoes. Harvey suspected there were worse marks underneath the clothes, but seeing as how Mike's face was bad enough, Harvey really preferred to remain ignorant at the moment.

He tried to walk Mike over to the couch, but the blond had wrapped his arms around Harvey's torso in a death grip.

"Mike," Harvey murmured softly.

The blond dug his head in Harvey's shoulder and squeezed tighter. "I…I hit him."

Harvey wasn't sure he'd heard that right. Mike had hit his abusive boyfriend? "Good," was all he could manage to come up with.

But Mike shook his head. "I told him…if he r-really l-loved me, then he w-wouldn't hit me."

Harvey nodded and moved his hands from Mike's arms to wrap them around the shaking man protectively.

"But he…he…he never tried to…not before. But I t-told him about h-how I k-k-kissed—"

Harvey had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Mike, what did he try to do?"

Mike squeezed tighter again. "I hit him w-with a skillet. He'll be s-so m-mad…"

"Mike," Harvey said and moved one of his hands into Mike's hair. It was a comforting gesture to both of them, but Harvey also used the opportunity to feel for bruises. "It won't matter anymore. You're not going back there. I won't let him hurt you."

That promise surprised Harvey. He hadn't realized how protective he'd felt of Mike until after he'd said that. But he didn't want to take back the words.

Harvey sat them both down on the couch, Mike still clutching tightly to him. "It's okay. Shh. It'll be okay."

As he sobbed pathetically into Harvey, Mike began to relax his grip. When his sobbing had wound down to quiet sniffles, Harvey finally managed to extract himself from Mike's arms and fully examine the kid. It wasn't pretty.

"I hope you hit him hard," Harvey said.

Mike, astonishingly, let out a small laugh.

"I'm going to get some supplies and then I'm going to get you cleaned up, okay?" Harvey told him. "Promise me you won't leave this spot."

Mike nodded. He looked so sad and miserable on Harvey's couch, not unlike that first night they'd spent watching _Mississippi Burning_ together. He could kill that asshole for this.

…

After he'd gotten Mike cleaned up and bandaged, given him some pajamas to wear, and double checked the locks on his door, Harvey took a seat on the couch.

Mike had been sitting there looking awkward and stiff all night, and Harvey worried about what he wasn't being told.

As the night wore on and Harvey got through more and more of the files he was supposed to read, he began to notice Mike inching closer to him.

"Mike?" Harvey asked before he found his lips being covered with Mike's.

The kiss was hesitant and tender, filled with all the uncertainty, fear, and hope that was so clear on Mike's face. Harvey knew he should have pushed Mike away. The kid was still vulnerable, and even if these feelings were real as Harvey hoped, it was taking advantage of Mike. But Harvey was enjoying the kiss too much to stop it.

And when Mike's hand reached to unbutton Harvey's pants, Harvey let that slide as well.  
But when Mike pulled away from the kiss and his hot breath puffed by Harvey's groin, Harvey opened his eyes, and the realization of what he was doing hit him hard.

No matter how much he wanted Mike, this was insane. The man was hurt, in pain, and traumatized. Harvey felt almost sick again, but now it was worse, since it was his own doing.

"Mike, wait," Harvey started, worried that Mike would take things the wrong way. Harvey definitely didn't want that. He wanted Mike, wanted all of this. But under much more pleasant circumstances, and preferably with a partner that wasn't covered head to toe in bruises.

Mike moved away and the confusion was written all over his face. "Don't you want me? I can make you happy. Just tell me what you want and it's yours."

Harvey cringed at the distraught look on Mike's face. The kid really thought he needed to repay Harvey with sexual favors? What was it with Mike and the repayment? First the beer, then the clothes, now this? Wasn't this what Mike had yelled at him in his office in front of all his colleagues for?

"I think you need to think this through a bit more carefully," Harvey poorly attempted to explain.  
"Why don't you start with telling me the truth. The whole truth. How long has this been going on?" He hoped Mike wouldn't close up on him. After all, the last time Harvey had mentioned the man's abusive partner, Mike had insisted that the jerk loved him before storming out of Harvey's entirely visible office. But Harvey had learned from experience that sometimes, the best thing to do, despite how awful it could be, was to press where it hurt. And he wasn't going to let Mike go until he'd gotten the answers they both needed.

It was clear that these questions made Mike very uncomfortable. He nervously plucked at the hem of his shirt. "Are you sure you don't want me to do something else?" he tried to deflect as he ran his hand up Harvey's leg.

Harvey grabbed Mike's hand, remembering at the last second to be gentle in his grip. He never wanted Mike to associate him with Scott. Ever. "I'm sure."

Mike pouted a bit and tore his hand free from Harvey's loose grasp. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "What's there to tell? I love him, he loves me. Sometimes we get into these...misunderstandings and I guess I don't...well, I make mistakes." He raised his head a little and his voice became more steady. "But he takes care of me. I mean, he lets me stay there for free and he pays wherever we go. So, I thought... it's okay that he gets mad sometimes, right? I know it sounds stupid, but I just...I thought he loved me. I _know _he loved me."

Harvey was really considering grabbing a waste receptacle for depositing his stomach contents. Mike's twisted idea of love was sickening. He didn't even know where to start on explaining why that was wrong. "Someone who beats you to a bloody pulp is not worthy of loving anyone, Mike. You know that's true or else you wouldn't have such an obsession with convincing yourself that he loves you." Harvey ignored Mike's sudden defensive look and barreled on. "And I'm pretty sure you don't love him back, either. Maybe you did, but you definitely don't anymore."

Mike didn't respond. He just sat there on the couch, a quiet thoughtful frown on his face as if he knew all along that Harvey was right.

Harvey leaned forward and angled himself to be almost face to face with Mike. "What did he do, Mike?" When Mike looked up questioningly, Harvey clarified. "What did he do this time? What did it take for you to hit back?"

Harvey could see the furious blush beneath Mike's badly bruised face. Although Mike clearly didn't want to share, his hands automatically went to cover his unbuttoned jeans and to tug his torn shirt down in a futile attempt to hide the damage.

Harvey could have guessed as much if he'd let himself really think it through. Despite the evidence that pointed to it, he still didn't want to believe that Mike had almost been raped. All he could hope for now was that that monster hadn't actually succeeded before he'd been taken out by cookware.

Not quite sure how to proceed, never having actually taken the time to comfort anyone beyond work, he hesitantly placed his hand on Mike's knee. The man flinched slightly, but didn't pull away and Harvey accepted it as a tiny victory. "Did he...how far..." he began, not wanting to voice the awful words.

Mike shook his head. "He didn't. I just...I know that I should listen to him. That it's worse when I don't...But I didn't want to anymore." He looked up at Harvey and there was so much pain and terror filling him. And behind all of it was Mike, begging for Harvey's approval, for his forgiveness.

Harvey swallowed down the urge to grab hold of Mike and simply hug him into eternity. He didn't know how to respond to that in words. As a man staunchly against having feelings, he was surprised that he wanted to fix Mike using nothing but the things. "What changed?" he finally managed to ask. He had to know. He knew the answer he wanted it to be, but he didn't know if it was the right one.

Mike slowly reached for the hand still resting on his knee. Without looking at Harvey, he said softly, "You."

Harvey let the warm feeling spread through him at Mike's words. If someone had told him he'd be caring about another human being (aside from Donna, of course), let alone one who had first shown up at his door with a plate of cookies, Harvey would have had them committed. Legally. But here was living proof that Harvey cared. Now he had to reciprocate.

He turned his hand over and lightly took hold of Mike's. The blond's eyes finally met his and Harvey saw something he'd rarely ever seen before. Trust.

"Well, you're staying here tonight," Harvey said quietly. They were both tired; Harvey was already exhausted from his late-night work, and Mike had been on an emotional rollercoaster that involved physically defending his honor.

Mike seemed to be okay with the idea, as he nodded his assent to Harvey, whose hand was still wrapped around Mike's.

Harvey made to stand. He figured Mike would want to sleep in a bed, but Mike didn't budge. He just held onto Harvey's hand with a strong grip, like he'd be lost if he let go.

Harvey sat down again and made himself comfortable on the couch. After a minute, Mike attempted to do the same, awkwardly trying to scoot closer to Harvey while maintaining distance. Harvey rolled his eyes at this and tugged the man backwards so he was pressed into his chest. Mike stiffened for a moment before wriggling in closer and leaning his head back.

Harvey pressed a soft kiss on the blond head of hair while he idly stroked Mike's arm. They fell asleep in the comfort of each other.

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**So I know this one got a little sappy. But, well, what would you prefer? It's not over yet, I promise. Hope you liked this chapter and thank you so much once more for the wonderful reviews!**


	7. Chapter 7

**First: A big thank you to EvavH! You are, as always, awesome. Second: Thanks to all those who left truly wonderful comments. I sincerely apologize for the wait you all had to endure. I had originally finished the story, but then realized that after chapter 6, the rest was complete crap. So, here is the new and much improved chapter 7. I hope it was worth the wait!**

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When Harvey awoke, it took a moment for him to remember why there was a weight on top of him and his back ached like he'd slept on the couch. But then the previous night came back to him and he recognized the mess of dirty blond hair in front of him.

He gently removed himself from beneath Mike, laying him down gently on the space Harvey had previously occupied. Mike must have been tired because he didn't stir once.

Harvey watched him sleep for a moment, not caring just how creepy that probably was. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the bruises on Mike's face or the way his forehead was creased in tiny frown lines. He couldn't ignore the way his own heart lurched whenever he thought of that ass next door laying a finger on Mike and the way Mike had tried to defend Scott's actions to Harvey.

He took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand wearily through his hair. How had he gotten into this mess? He thought back to that first night when he noticed the blond kid sitting in the hallway, smiling as Harvey passed to go to the gym. And Harvey realized that he might not have been unhappy back then, but he wasn't happy, either.

And he wondered if Mike made him happy. Those nights when Mike had come over for pizza and a movie, quoting and bantering with Harvey—those nights, Harvey thought, were happy ones.

Mike began to stir only after Harvey had showered and put on a pot of coffee. But the unmistakable sound of someone falling off a couch onto hardwood floor was certainly evidence enough that the kid was awake.

Harvey peered over the kitchen counter to spot Mike on the floor, attempting to push himself up with the aid of Harvey's coffee table. "You okay?" he asked lightly, more amused than concerned at Mike's sleep induced clumsiness.

Mike rubbed at the bruise on his jaw and peered sleepily at Harvey. When he didn't respond but continued to stare, Harvey started to worry the kid had hit his head.

"Mike?" he asked in concern.

Mike shook his head like he was clearing it. "You're real…"

"And you're an idiot," Harvey replied jokingly.

"Last night…wasn't a dream…"

Harvey shook his head and poured them each a cup of the finest coffee Donna could find and force Harvey to buy for herself and her friends. "Do you want it to be?" he asked hesitantly. He hoped Mike had seen the light last night and wanted nothing more to do with Scott. But Harvey had been a prosecutor long enough to see how most of these cases ended.

But Mike slowly shook his head. "No." He peered seriously up at Harvey, still kneeling on the floor where he'd fallen, and repeated himself. "No. I don't think so."

Harvey met his gaze. "Good. There's coffee for you if you want it. Just try not to injure any more of my furniture on your way."

Mike let out a small laugh and slowly approached the bar.

The kid was thinking much too loudly for Harvey's quiet morning to allow. "Spit it out, Mike."

Mike blushed but said, "About last night…I…I tried to…to you, and, well…It was wrong of me and I shouldn't have."

Harvey tried to figure out what the hell Mike was talking about, but then recalled the kid's earlier attempt to grope him in the hopes of distracting him away from the topic of abusive boyfriends. He sighed. "Mike…" How did Harvey explain without hurting Mike or himself? "Last night, you were hurt and vulnerable and—Jesus Christ, you'd been assaulted and almost raped! And as much as I wanted to let you continue, I couldn't. You see that, right? How was I supposed to know that you weren't doing it just to—I don't know—erase the memory of _his_ hands on you?"

Mike flinched as Harvey's tone grew sharp and his voice gained volume. "I thought you knew," he said softly, as though he was afraid he'd provoke Harvey's wrath.

Harvey let out a steadying, calming breath. He couldn't yell at Mike. He couldn't treat him like a witness. He had to be careful. Mike wasn't broken _yet_, but he was still fragile.

"Mike, what did you tell him about me?" Harvey asked. Mike had started to say something last night, about how Scott had tried to force him after Mike had told him he'd kissed someone, but he'd stopped before he'd said whom. And Harvey hadn't wanted to push it last night, but it was important now.

Mike looked down into his cup of coffee and didn't answer.

"Mike?" Harvey demanded gently.

Blue eyes flickered up into his and for a moment, they filled with tears. "Nothing. He doesn't know it's you that I'm…who I've been with." He looked away, avoiding Harvey's gaze.

Harvey wondered what lay in that pause. That Mike _what_?

"He saw me that last night we watched _Citizen Kane_ together, and he wanted to know why I'd been there. What could I say? So, he told me I was a whore and that if he ever caught me near your place again he'd..." Mike closed his eyes, pressed them shut like he was in pain.

Harvey wanted to reach out to him, but they were separated by the countertop and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to let go if he got a hold of the kid.

After a tense silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, Mike let out a shaky breath. "It didn't matter. He punished me anyway."

"Hit you," Harvey corrected.

Mike looked at him for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."

Harvey recalled that night that Mike had knocked on his door, crying, telling Harvey he couldn't come over anymore. He remembered the words not meant to be heard through the door: "I can't see you anymore."

Harvey swallowed a hot gulp of his coffee, waiting for the caffeine to flood his veins and help him through this conversation.

"Last night," Mike began, surprising Harvey. He hadn't thought the kid would want to mention it. "He got mad because I came home late. I tried to tell him it was because my bike got stolen, and I had to take the subway home, and there was a game last night so it took me longer. But he didn't believe me. He said he knew I'd been out," and Mike took a deep breath and shyly looked at Harvey. "Sucking some rich guy's cock for a penny. I…I got mad."

Harvey watched in horror as Mike began to shake, and he wanted more than ever to wrap him in his arms. But he feared that if he moved, it would break whatever was happening right now, and he needed to hear Mike tell his story as much as Mike needed to tell it.

Mike laughed eerily. "I never get mad. I used to, you know? When we first met. He was nice and funny and generous. We used to go to parties—art gallery openings for his work—and he'd tell me how much he loved me. He didn't get jealous, not even…Well, one night, there was this guy. He kept hitting on me and touching me, and he was a big sponsor for the show, so I tried to get away from him, but he cornered me eventually. Scott walked in on us with the guy's mouth on mine and his hand in my pants. He got really mad. He never believed me that I hadn't wanted it."

Harvey could see why Mike hadn't left Scott immediately. He still thought Mike was an idiot for it, but he understood all the same. He only wished he'd been there to help.

"But last night…" Mike started again, still not drinking from his cup, just nursing it in his hands. "Last night, I got mad. He hit me, and all I could think about was you."

Harvey's eyes widened in surprise. "Me?"

Mike nodded. "I guess being with you made me remember that being with somebody didn't have to involve getting beat up with a belt for being an hour late home from work."

Harvey winced at the imagery that produced. His hands tightened on his own mug and he sipped his coffee, imagining strangling that son of a bitch with the belt that had hurt Mike.

"I was trying to hurt him. It was kind of stupid, in retrospect. I guess I should have known better than to provoke him, but like I said before: I was mad. I told him he was right. That I was late because I was too busy kissing this guy I'd met at a club." And then the tears began to fall silently down Mike's cheeks, his shoulders shaking in an uneven rhythm.

Harvey finally decided it was time to move. He made his way around the counter and turned Mike into his chest, wrapping his arms around him protectively. "You're okay. You did the right thing, Mike. You're okay, now. I promise."

After what seemed like forever, Mike's crying stopped. He didn't move except to wrap his arms around Harvey and squeeze. "I'm pathetic, aren't I?" he asked softly.

Harvey squeezed back. "You?" he scoffed. "You're a genius, kid. A really stupid one, maybe, but you _aren't _pathetic."

They were both startled by the sound of a cell phone ringing. Mike pulled away from Harvey and fished in his pockets for his phone. Harvey stood watching him nervously. He had a feeling he knew exactly who was calling Mike.

Mike looked from the screen of his phone to Harvey. "It's him. What do I do? I can't go back there, Harvey..."

Harvey closed his hand around Mike's and the phone. "You don't have to. Don't answer it, Mike," he said levelly.

Mike shook his head. "But where will I go? He has everything. All my pictures, my accounts, everything! Where else can I go?"

The kid didn't have anywhere? Harvey knew that most people stayed in these situations because they had no support network, no safety net to catch them. But he hadn't even bothered to find out about Mike's connections. Did the kid even have any family? He doubted he was on good terms with them if he did. No one who cared about someone would let them stay in the relationship Mike was in.

He took a deep breath and battled internally. His old self was telling him how much of an idiot he was for getting involved in all this. Did he really think Mike wouldn't be like all the others? But Harvey—the Harvey that was standing in his kitchen, who'd held Mike last night, was sure. Mike _wasn't_ like all the rest of them. Mike was special.

"Stay here," Harvey said firmly. "You can stay here."


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, so I know you have been waiting much longer than you should have had to for this chapter. But I've just finished my last semester of college, so I should be free now to work on this. Finally. So, here's an update for you all. Thank you so much for your patience. I hope you enjoy! :D**

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Harvey hadn't wanted to leave Mike alone at his place, but he couldn't very well bring him to work with him, not when the kid didn't own any clothing that didn't have holes in it. So Harvey had had no choice but to hope that Mike would be there when he got back.

Work hadn't been fun for him, either. Donna was still giving him suspicious looks. He suspected she was upset with him when all his calls were sent straight to his desk phone without being filtered, after he answered and was asked if this was Paco's Taco Palace and if he delivered. But he couldn't tell Donna anything yet. Mike wasn't his yet. And he couldn't be sure the kid wanted to stay with him, to leave his old life behind.

So when Harvey opened the door, he expected to find an empty set of rooms. Instead, he found that his TV was on mute and there was a delicious aroma wafting through the place that smelled almost like...Cookies! Harvey thought with relief.

He almost ran into the kitchen where he found Mike molding the little balls of dough and smushing them gently onto a cooking sheet, flour all over his arms and a little on the cheek that Harvey could see.

And there were two plates piled high with cookies sitting on the bar of Harvey's kitchen. Apparently Mike had been busy.

Harvey watched him for a moment, certain Mike hadn't seen or heard him come in. The kid really was cute. He was wearing the shirt he'd stolen from Harvey's closet-the one that he'd gotten from Harvard on a whim because he didn't own anything with the school name except his degree-and some of his usual tattered jeans. His feet were bare and it made Harvey realize that Mike looked right here. He looked at home.

Mike turned, the cookie sheet in his hand as he headed for the oven. But as soon as he caught sight of Harvey staring at him, he startled and nearly dropped the tray, a small cry of surprise escaping him.

Harvey started laughing at the image of Mike clutching the tray awkwardly from when he caught it, staring at Harvey like he was a ghost.

"You scared me," Mike said with a nervous giggle.

Harvey half smiled at him before realizing Mike still looked a little scared. He was confused until he remembered his earlier opinions of Mike's cookies. God, he'd been such an ass. "Chocolate chip or oatmeal?" he asked lightly, hoping Mike would catch his lack of anger in his voice.

Mike seemed to relax a fraction. "Uh, chocolate chip. You had all this stuff and it was going to expire, so I figured I'd...I'm sorry. I should have asked." His words were honest, and Harvey was nearly about to get upset at Mike's asking them like he'd done something wrong, when he realized that Mike didn't look scared. It was a simple statement-an apology-not a plea.

Harvey took a step closer to the bar, picked up one of the cookies, and took a bite. "These are good, but I'm not sure what we'll do with so many."

Mike let out a small smile, the kind Harvey was familiar with from their first meetings in the hallway outside the apartment. "Maybe you can give them out at work? You don't have to pretend to like them, though."

"I'm not pretending," Harvey said evenly with just a tinge of fake hurt.

Mike placed the tray he was carrying in the oven and set the timer. "My grammy used to make them," he said quietly. "She would have liked you."

Harvey had no clue what to say to that. It just made him realize for the second time in the last two days that he really didn't know much about Mike. So he simply finished his cookie and grabbed another before saying, "I have work to do, so I'll be on the couch. Don't burn the building down," and heading for the sofa.

Which is exactly where Mike found him a half an hour later, with files spread around him and a frown on his face.

"Can I help?" Mike asked shyly.

Harvey startled. He had been so busy trying to find the leverage he needed for his case, he'd almost forgotten Mike was still there. And wasn't that an odd thing, that Mike was of course still there; Harvey had told him he could stay. "Well, technically, you're not supposed to see these. They're-"

'-confidential," Mike supplied, eyes scanning the papers on the coffee table anyway.

"What are you doing?" Harvey asked curiously. "When you do that, I mean."

And Mike's eyes flitted back to Harvey's so quickly that Harvey was beginning to wonder if he'd simply imagined what he'd seen. "Nothing," Mike answered much too fast.

With a sigh, Harvey made room on the couch for Mike to sit beside him. "Fine. Don't tell me. I can't force you to. But I'm smart, Mike. I'll figure it out soon, anyway."

Harvey returned to his work and eventually felt Mike sink onto the empty space on the couch beside him. They sat in silence for a long while before anyone spoke.

"I'm really smart," Mike said softly.

Harvey put down what he was reading before giving Mike an expression that basically said, "duh."

"I mean," Mike started. He waited a moment before continuing, eyes glancing away from Harvey's like he was ashamed, but always coming back to settle on the brown. "Scott thought it was cool at first. I used to help him with his work. But after awhile, he said it was just annoying. So I stopped...saying things."

Harvey opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Mike.

"I don't think you're like that. I want to believe, you'd think it was useful. Not cool, not annoying, just...useful." Mike picked up a file off the coffee table. Without doing more than glancing at it, he handed it to Harvey. "Read any sentence on that page."

Harvey stared at him curiously. The kid was remarkable, but this was ridiculous. But Mike was trusting him to talk to him, to tell him his 'secret', so Harvey would play along. He looked down at the page. "Subject to and conditional on the Employee complying with-"

"-complying with the terms of this agreement, the Company shall within 14 days after the Termination Date or receipt by the Company of a copy of this agreement signed by the Employee and receipt by the Company of a letter from the Advisor-"

Harvey held up a hand to stop the kid before he read the whole thing. He stared at Mike in actual awe. "How did you do that?"

Mike looked faintly embarrassed but he didn't look away when he said, "If I read something, I understand it, and if I understand it, I never forget it."

Harvey studied Mike's honest expression before quietly getting up and walking to his bookcase. He considered his collection. After a minute, he pulled out one he thought there was a good chance of Mike having read, and showed him the cover. "You read this?" he asked.

Mike nodded.

Harvey flipped open Paradise Lost and read, "'Enough is left besides to-'"

Mike cut in again, quoting perfectly, "'-to search and know/ But Knowledge is as food, and needs no less/ Her temperance over appetite to know/ In measure what the mind may well contain,/ Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns/ Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind.' Book seven. Lines 125 to 130. I'd tell you the page number it was on, but my copy was a different edition."

Harvey stared at him, still awed by this kid. And then he thought about what Mike had said about Scott finding it annoying and all the things Mike had to endure with that guy and it made Harvey angry. Here was this genius, standing in his living room, reciting things perfectly from memory, and he was the victim of domestic abuse in ripped jeans and baking cookies. "You want a job?" Harvey found himself asking.

Mike looked shocked this time. "What?" he managed.

It hadn't been what Harvey had been planning on saying, but then, by now, he was used to the fact that things with Mike never seemed to go to plan. "I'll hire you. You obviously know about law. And anything you don't know, you can learn. Quickly, too."

Mike looked away again, shame on his face. But it was different from the usual shame Harvey had grown accustomed to seeing. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Harvey asked gently. He wasn't trying to force the kid into anything. If Mike didn't want to work for him, he wasn't going to force the issue.

"I...I don't have a degree. And my previous work experience isn't anything that belongs on a law firm resume."

"That wouldn't be a concern. Look, Mike, if you don't want to work with me, you don't have to. I'm just making an offer."

Mike didn't say anything for a while. He leaned back into the couch, pensive. "Thanks, then. I'll...I'll think about it."

A sudden thought occurred to Harvey. "Where do you work?"

Mike cringed. "It's nothing special. I really don't want to talk about it, sorry."

Harvey immediately dropped the subject. "Okay. Want to watch a movie?"

Mike looked at him in pleased surprise. "Don't you have work?"

"It can wait."

Mike smiled and let Harvey put on Die Hard. After a few minutes, Mike had leaned over until he was leaning against Harvey's side. And Harvey wasn't sure if this was okay. Mike's face was still covered in bruises, and he was still wearing the same jeans he had on that Scott had tried to tear off.

But Harvey really liked the familiar weight of Mike's side, the way it sent warmth all through his body like a comforting blanket on a cold winter day. "Mike," he said softly, not sure what to do.

Mike moved away instantly. "Sorry! I'm sorry. I just...I shouldn't have. I thought, maybe...I-"

"Mike," Harvey interrupted. He pulled him back when Mike finally shut up, so that Mike wasn't just leaning into his side, but his face was inches from Harvey's. And he saw the genuine feelings starkly in Mike's wide eyes. Before he could stop himself, he was kissing him, gently at first until Mike's shock dissipated and he let Harvey in.

Mike's hand crept toward Harvey's pants, but Harvey stopped him by threading his fingers through Mike's. They made out for a while, until Alan Rickman had revealed himself as the villain and Bruce Willis was busy being awesome. Harvey finally pulled himself off Mike before he did anything else he wasn't prepared for.

Mike didn't say anything, just blushed faintly as if in apology for trying to grope Harvey again, his lips red from kissing.

"Why do you like me?" he asked after a few minutes had passed.

Harvey had gotten into the movie, and so Mike's question hit him in surprise. He tried to consider the reasons, but he couldn't voice them. "Because you're you," he finally said.

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**I promise you all, I'm currently writing the next chapter, so it shouldn't take a whole month for me to have it posted. Cross your fingers...just in case! ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry about the long delay in updates. I don't know why, but this one took me forever to start writing. Thanks, as always, the lovely EvavH, without whom, this story would suck. You rock, Awesome!**

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Harvey woke once more on the couch, sunlight streaming in, and shifted as the warmth surrounding him moved enough to allow cold air to touch his skin. He blinked down and found Mike twitching in his sleep, his arms curled to his chest, his fingers clutching Harvey's shirt.

He probably should have moved him, woken him, separated them. But he didn't want to. He liked the feel of Mike against him, the way his hands felt warm against Harvey's chest. He let a hand gently run through Mike's hair, stroke down his cheek tenderly.

But Harvey's watch glinted in the sunlight, and he remembered that he had work he was supposed to be doing. And apparently he was going to be late to the office. A buzzing in his back pocket made him pull out his phone, Mike barely stirring in his arms.

"Donna," he whispered.

"Jessica's looking for you. You aren't here." She didn't sound happy with him, but then, Harvey hadn't explained who Mike was yet, and she didn't like him keeping things from her.

"I'll be there in an hour. Promise." He kept his voice low, hoping he wouldn't wake Mike. If anybody needed sleep, it was him.

"Why are you whispering?" she asked suspiciously.

"Bye Donna," he said and hung up.

He really would have to wake Mike if he wanted to get to work in an hour. He gently shook the kid's shoulder until he was groggily blinking up at Harvey.

"Sorry, Mike. I have to go to work sometime today," he said, and began extricating himself from the couch and Mike's comforting warmth.

Mike was looking at the clock on Harvey's book shelf. "You're late. Sorry."

"My fault. I didn't want to wake you."

Mike blushed. "Harvey...about last night..."

Harvey remembered their makeout session on the couch as Bruce Willis was busy being awesome, and he couldn't help but smile. He couldn't leave Mike here alone, so close to the man who hurt him so deeply. "Do you have anything that doesn't have holes in it?" he asked, ignoring Mike's words.

Mike looked up at him, mild confusion clear on his face. "Uh..."

"I'll take that as a no. Come on, then. You can borrow some of mine for today until we find some more suitable attire."

"Huh?" Mike asked. "No, I...I don't have a lot of money. And Scott has all my other clothes. I don't need new ones."

"I didn't say you had to pay for them," Harvey explained patiently.

"I can pay for myself," Mike said forcefully, a small flash of anger crossing his face. He looked more surprised than Harvey did. "I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Mike. It's okay. Really. I'm not saying you can't pay. I just want to buy them for you. Like a gift." Harvey should probably have thought that one through more carefully. Mike had mentioned Scott had bought Mike a lot of things he needed. It was a way of asserting control over Mike, and Harvey really should have known not to try to do the same thing. But Mike needed new clothes. Badly.

Harvey didn't get an answer, just a frown directed at the floor and eyes that refused to look at him. He let out a sigh, checked the time, and realized he was out of it.

He hurried to shower and dress, returning to the living room to find Mike still sitting on the couch, the same frown there.

"I have to go to the office for a little bit. But when I come back, we're going out. It doesn't matter what we do, and we don't have to spend any money, but I really think we should do something together somewhere other than in the apartment. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" He waited until Mike gave a nod before bending down, tilting Mike's chin up with a hand, and kissing him softly and meaningfully. And with a smile, he left for the office.

….

His day was mostly filled with him trying to get everything done as soon as was possible. He wanted to take a day off so he could drag Mike out to get new things. If he was going to be living with Harvey then he'd need all sorts of items: shelves, clothes, toiletries, whatever. And most of all, he wanted to be able to spend time with Mike without it being interrupted.

But things hadn't started out too well for him. Donna had been giving him the cold shoulder ever since that day when Mike had stormed in and made a scene, and Harvey had refused to open up to her. Clearly, things had regressed, because when he got in that morning, Louis was in his office...touching things.

It took him a little while to get rid of the man, but he had managed to get him to leave with a case Harvey hadn't wanted to take, which meant one less thing to do. And then he realized that if he didn't take care of this mess with Donna, there was no way he was ever getting out of there.

"Donna?" he asked her, stepping out of his glass room. She didn't answer right away, just ignored him. He managed not to sigh too heavily. "What do you want to know?" he asked graciously.

She snapped her head up with a gossipy smile. "Really?" she asked him.

"Really."

She chewed her lip. "Where'd you meet him?"

He rolled his eyes. That was really the first thing she wanted to know? "In my hallway," he said, lowering his voice. "Ask another one that actually matters."

She narrowed her eyes dangerously, but didn't call him out on his attitude. "That business...when he came storming in here...is that taken care of?"

"If you're asking if I've seen him since then, the answer is yes. As for the problems...I'm dealing with them." He waited for another question.

"Okay, well good luck!" she added and went back to her work.

Harvey stared at her in amazement. "That's all?" he asked dryly in disbelief.

"Yep. That's all," she echoed, mocking his voice. "Harvey, so long as you're happy, that's all I need to know."

He didn't know what to say. "Donna...you warm my heart," he said, grasping his chest and looking emotional.

She waved him away. "Okay, enough. Do your work so I can clear your schedule tomorrow like you wanted to ask me to."

Harvey whimpered and wobbled his lip, pretending to tear up as he took a step backwards towards his office. She threw a box of tissues at him.

…

The rest of the day went well after that. Donna had helped ensure that he could safely take the day off work and spend it with Mike, and Harvey was out of there by five.

He got his key out and went to push it in the mechanism, but the door was already unlocked. His heart gave a little nervous squeeze.

With a cautious step inside he found that nothing seemed misplaced at first glance. "Mike?" he called nervously. The kid was probably in the bathroom or something, or in the office with the door closed. But Harvey had a really bad feeling. He stepped outside for a second to glance at Scott's door. It was silent. But there was something in the corner of the hallway, stuck to the rug and hidden by shadow.

Harvey bent down to investigate and found a curious piece of metal that looked like the pull on a zipper. In fact, he could have sworn he'd seen it before on Mike's ragged jacket the kid used to wear when they were still strangers and they'd only greet in the hallway.

His heart pounded in his chest and he knew something bad had happened. He had to find Mike. He ran into his apartment and called out Mike's name again. He stood there, silent for a moment, hoping to hear a response. Nothing. He checked the office. No Mike. He checked the main bathroom. No Mike. He checked his bedroom...

And heard movement in the bathroom attached to it. "Mike?" he asked.

There was a muffled curse and the sound of something clattering followed by another curse. Harvey ran in, worried. "Mike!"

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to see, but what he got confused him. Mike was trying to pick up Harvey's shaving brush from where he'd apparently knocked it on the floor, but the first aid kit was out on the counter, and Mike had a wet towel pressed to the side of his forehead, just above his right eye. He saw blood on it, as if Mike had refolded the towel multiple times to use an unstained portion of it.

"Uh...you're home early," Mike said, voice confused.

Harvey stared at his wound and Mike's eyes traveled upwards, as if just then recognizing what Harvey was looking at. A panicked look appeared on his face. It set Harvey's blood boiling. He let out a deep breath before saying, "I'm gonna kill him," and turning on his heel to march next door. He considered grabbing the baseball bat he kept under his bed, but wanted the satisfaction of strangling the man with his bare hands.

But something stopped him from getting further than the door of his bedroom. He pulled against it but the grip was surprisingly strong. He whirled angrily to find a nervous Mike, hand fisted in his jacket tightly enough to tear the fabric if Harvey pulled any more on it. "It's not what you think!" Mike said to him, eyes wide, the blue shining back at Harvey. And he saw the uncovered bloody gash on Mike's head and his rage did anything but subside.

"Stay here," Harvey told him and pulled Mike's hand off him. He returned moving back to stride furiously out the door.

But once again Mike stopped him, this time moving in front of Harvey to plant himself against the front door.

"Mike. Move," he said. He didn't want Mike to get hurt anymore. Ever. And the gash was bleeding slowly, blood oozing its way down Mike's face to pool by his eyebrow.

"Harvey! Just listen to me! Please!" Mike begged.

That got Harvey to listen, the desperation in Mike's voice startling him. He hated being the cause of Mike sounding like that.

Mike looked at him gratefully. "Thank you. I promise, I'm fine. Really. I was just putting some things away in the closet in your spare room and I wasn't paying attention and I smacked my head into the corner of one of the hanging shelves. Honest."

Harvey frowned at the story. Mike certainly looked honest. The kid was easy enough to read. But if that was true then... "Why were you in the spare room?" Harvey asked, his anger dissolving.

Mike blanched. "Uh, well..."

Harvey raised an eyebrow before turning abruptly and marching to the guest room. Mike trailed on his heels but didn't interfere. He seemed nervous.

When Harvey pulled the door open he saw the room filled with belongings that appeared to be Mike's. There were a few photographs framed and on the nightstand, and clothes littered the bed and the floor like Mike had been sorting them.

Harvey turned to Mike and stated, "This is your stuff."

Mike nodded. "I uh...I went and got it while you were at work." At Harvey's frown, he added, "Scott wasn't there. I knew he had a gallery thing to go to today. It was on his calendar."

Harvey heaved a deep breath. He pulled out the zipper pull he'd found on the ground outside. "I saw this outside and thought something bad had happened. That he'd murdered you or something." Harvey didn't like the idea that Mike had gone back there at all, but he couldn't really blame the kid. He just wished he'd told him, though he knew if Mike had, Harvey wouldn't have agreed to it.

Mike looked at the zipper pull and picked out a jacket from the room's trash can. "It got caught on my blankie."

Harvey saw the jacket was missing the pull and then asked, "Your what?"

"Oh, uh, my blankie-I mean, my blanket. Grammy made it for me. We used to use it in our old apartment whenever we'd fall asleep on the couch, so I just kind of held on to it." Mike held up a knit thing that looked like it might possibly be used as a throw on an equally threadbare couch. It looked old and worn, and if it hadn't had sentimental value, Harvey would suggest throwing it away like all of Mike's other raggedy belongings.

"Harvey? Is it okay that I did this? I mean, I know you said I could live with you, and I didn't want you to have to buy me anything because you're already doing a lot for me and stuff. If you change your mind, that's okay. I don't have that much, really, so it won't take me long to pack it."

Harvey stared at Mike and realized the kid was still unsure. It would take a lot of time for him to trust that he was wanted, that Harvey wanted him around for him and not because he was useful or convenient.

"You're getting blood everywhere," he said, though mostly Mike was getting it on his face. Harvey grabbed his hand gently and walked him back into his own bathroom, the only one with a first aid kit, and began patching up the gash. "This is bad. You might need stitches."

"No, I'm fine," Mike said hastily.

"Mike. What are you afraid of?" he asked him, genuinely worried.

Mike gave him a long stare before answering. "Okay. I'll go...I just...I don't like hospitals is all. Nothing good ever happens in them."

"You getting patched up is something good that'll happen in one. Come on. We can get dinner on the way home and then I'll help you finish putting everything else away in your room." Harvey started packing his first aid kit away, pressing a wad of gauze to Mike's temple. "Hold that there."

The next few hours were surprisingly fun, even with the trip to the hospital. Not that he ever liked the idea of Mike being hurt, but it was a nice change to see Mike injured from something not related to Scott. And once the kid was patched up, they stopped off for a pizza and talked about movies and sports. Mike knew all the statistics of baseball, and when Harvey asked him how he knew, Mike told him he'd looked them up just because he'd seen the autographed balls in Harvey's office.

When they made it back home, they were exhausted, and Mike sank into the couch, asking Harvey if they could watch a movie.

And it hit Harvey then that Mike really was here, that he wasn't going anywhere. He knew they still had a lot to sort through, that Scott was still looming over them not a hundred feet away in the apartment next door. But he thought that if he could stay with Mike, this kid that had somehow wormed his way inside Harvey's strongest defenses, then he could be happy.

They fell asleep on the couch again, only an hour into The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, and Harvey wondered if late nights sleeping together, cuddled into each other, were going to be the norm from now on. He didn't mind if they were.

He wrapped an arm around Mike and shut his eyes.

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**So this turned out a lot fluffier than I'd intended. Believe me when I say the original draft was a LOT darker. Thanks to everyone for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks everyone for the wonderful reviews and to those of you who have favorited this story and are following it! Just remember, lurkers, it's okay to drop me a line. I'm very friendly. ;D**

A big thanks, as always, to the lovely EvavH, for not only betaing, but for continuously pestering me to work on this. Thank you dear. Always a pleasure! 

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"You're sure it's okay?" Mike asked Harvey nervously, shifting in his cheap casual clothes.

Harvey rolled his eyes. "I already said it was. I want you to come."

It had been day two of Mike moving his things in, living out of the spare room. The first day, Mike had simply stayed there again, bored out of his mind. And when Harvey had caught him watching Say Yes to the Dress, screaming at the television, he had decided this wouldn't work. It was driving them both crazy. Mike was bored and his amazing intellect and memory were being wasted. And Harvey was in a constant state of worry about him.

So the solution was to take Mike to work with him. And he knew the kid had no suits, but he'd dug up some of his nicer clothing-button-up shirts and jeans that amazingly didn't have holes in them. And Harvey had ignored Mike's protests about buying him clothing and brought home a pair of new sneakers for him. Designer ones. All in all, the kid looked good, if not anywhere near professional.

Mike was clearly uncomfortable with this solution, but he clearly didn't want to stay inside forever, and when Harvey had inquired again about his job, Mike had evaded once more. So he let it go again, though he hadn't forgotten about it.

Harvey straightened his tie and pulled the front door open, eyes scanning the hallway to make sure it was safe. They hadn't seen Scott, and according to Mike, the man was never up before nine, so they'd never run into him this way. But Harvey would prefer to avoid the man. He was both worried about what it would do to Mike, and about what Harvey would do to Scott. He wanted to murder the man.

"Now, hurry up, before we're late," Harvey said, tugging on Mike's hand and pulling him all the way to the elevator.

Mike didn't let go of Harvey's hand and Harvey didn't want to let it go either, so he just held onto it. It was the kind of thing he would normally find awkward, but it somehow was comfortable.

They made it into the office without any incidents and Harvey guided Mike to his office, the kid's eyes wide and full of awe the whole time. It made Harvey want to grin, but he was at work, so he settled for an amused smirk. "Come on, I'll get someone to show you around later."

Mike nodded silently.

They made it to Donna's desk, eyes following the strange pair the whole way there. It must have been a strange sight to see: Harvey Specter, immaculately dressed in thousands of dollars of Tom Ford, and Mike Ross, raggedy looking and wide eyed beside him.

"Harvey, your messages," Donna said to him, handing him slips of paper. "Also, Jessica wants to see you in her office." She gave him the look he knew meant things weren't good. Harvey frowned, but delayed hearing the bad news by pointing at Mike. "This is Mike Ross. Mike, this is Donna. She's my assistant."

"And so much more," Donna assured Mike, holding out her hand which he took lightly and shook it a little. "Hi, uh, sorry about...before..."

Harvey blinked in confusion before remembering that Mike had managed to get past Donna once, and not many people did that and lived to tell the tale.

But she just smiled at him. "Forgiven and forgotten."

"Mike, you can stay in here. I'll be right back. Don't wander off," Harvey warned and headed off to Jessica's.

"I'm not a child," Mike said and stepped in Harvey's office, already pawing everything in wonder.

…

Harvey returned from Jessica's, annoyed and upset. He'd have to tell Mike their dinner plans were cancelled. He'd be here all day looking through files for what he needed. He could assign an associate or a paralegal, but Jessica had told him that Louis was currently on a case and he needed all-hands, so Harvey was on his own. He'd managed to get Rachel on board but that was all.

He came back into his office to find Mike gone. He tried very hard to not panic and opened his mouth to ask Donna if she'd seen him.

"Is he always like that?" Mike's voice said suddenly as Harvey's door opened. And the blond was there with Rachel, smiling and looking strangely confident and different from what Harvey was used to. It was nice to see, something almost rare. And he realized that maybe this was good; it was the way Mike should look, and probably had looked before Scott had stripped him raw.

"Ohhh," Rachel said with a little laugh. "That was him being nice." She looked up, surprised to find Harvey already back. "Mr. Specter, I was just showing Mike around."

Mike had noticed the large amount of files that littered Harvey's coffee table, boxes stacked around chaotically. "Let me guess," he sighed. "You're working late tonight."

"We are," Harvey corrected. "Rachel and I, anyway. You're going to not get into any trouble and read a book or something."

Mike frowned at him, but didn't protest. Rachel looked confused but went to the boxes. "What are we looking for?"

Harvey noticed Mike's unease at being pushed to the side. But while Harvey had offered him a job, he wasn't technically allowed to help yet. He sent him an apologetic look. "We need proof that Dennis Gambry wasn't the first employee to be injured. And we need ones who weren't under the influence at the time."

"Right," Rachel said, and heaved a large sigh before opening a box and getting to work.

Mike sat sullenly, nose buried in a book he was zipping through. Harvey kept glancing at him, trying to gauge just how annoyed and bored he was. They'd only found one other employee so far, and it was a nightmare. The records were awful and out of order, and Harvey knew those bastards had done it on purpose.

It was only when Harvey had to leave to have an emergency conference with one of his clients, Donna went to refill her coffee and use the restroom, and Rachel snuck off to grab some lunch for all of them, that Mike was actually left alone.

An hour later Harvey returned, Donna back at her desk looking somewhat concerned. "What's the matter with you?" Harvey asked curiously. "Is Louis in my office or something?"

She rolled her eyes. "You think I would put Louis in there unsupervised? I'm insulted. Oh, but Rachel went to grab us food, she'll be back in a minute. I sent her so no frowning." She glared at him and Harvey forced his frown away. "But, uh..."

Harvey felt the concern rise in the pit of his stomach. "Mike..."

He ignored Donna's protest and pulled open his office door. Mike was on the floor, eyes quickly scanning through page after page of paper, quickly sorting things into piles. There were a large number of boxes that had been added to their pile of things they'd already looked through, and Mike had not only written out a list, but he had stacked a bunch more records on Harvey's desk. He looked up at Harvey and there was a flash of defiance in his eyes before the fear swallowed it.

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to help," Mike rushed, not moving, rooted to the spot he'd claimed on the floor. "I can put it all back-"

"Mike," Harvey interrupted gently and Mike immediately cut off. "You went through nine boxes. In one hour."

Mike nodded. Harvey walked over to the pile on his desk. There were six new employees added to their list of injured, and there was another pile, slightly larger, next to it. "What are these?" he asked Mike.

"Um, they're employees who have filed complaints that the machinery was dangerous or shoddy or not properly maintained," Mike answered nervously.

Harvey frowned. "You did all this in an hour. By yourself?"

Mike nodded, looking less scared.

"How long would it take you to finish the rest of the boxes?" Harvey asked him.

"I'm not sure. Maybe...another couple hours?" Mike's expression changed to one of confusion.

Harvey smiled. "Keep working then." He sat down on the floor across from him and pulled a file out of Mike's current box, silently getting back to work.

Mike stared at him for a minute. "You're not mad."

"A little. If I'd known you could work this fast I would have had you start sooner," Harvey said, giving Mike a grin.

Mike's face lit up. "Well, it was getting painful watching you two go so slow."

"Okay, I got sushi. Hope you guys like fish," Rachel's voice said as she walked in, Donna following.

Mike gave her a grin. "What, no Chinese?"

Rachel scoffed as Donna held up Harvey's corporate card. "Not if Harvey's paying," Donna grinned.

Harvey smiled as everyone laughed. He liked the way Mike's voice sounded, liked seeing him be so good at something, liked watching the way he interacted with Rachel with confidence. It was like he was a whole person again.

Mike caught Harvey's stare as he was stuffing his mouth with a large piece of shrimp tempura. "What?" he asked, voice muffled by the food.

"Nothing," Harvey said with a grin. It looked like they were getting out of there early after all.

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**Sorry for the ridiculously long wait. And I know...another happy one with no villain. But he's lurking there in the shadows. I promise. ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**I am so sorry you guys, for making you wait SO long. Please don't kill me! I love you all very much, but this chapter...I just got stuck... I hope you like it though. Humblest apologies. Feel free to leave me angry comments to encourage me to write more faster. ;)**

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The days started to pass and Mike began coming into work with Harvey more and more, helping out around the office, joking with Rachel, quoting with Harvey, and even charming Louis, though the man was really just jealous. It was like everything was falling into some nice normality that Harvey could only describe as comfortingly placid. Because as nice as it was to have Mike growing increasingly like what he assumed was his old self, Harvey was just waiting for the ball to drop.

And as usual, Harvey's instincts were right.

The trouble started on a Tuesday. It was one of the days Mike had gone to work instead of to the office with Harvey, and he still had no idea what Mike did for a career. But they had planned to meet for dinner right after work. Only Mike showed up much later than expected and he smelled like cheap cologne.

"Sorry I'm late. I got stuck at work." Mike scooted into the booth and looked over the menu with an easy glance. He seemed unable to meet Harvey's eyes and Harvey had to admit he was upset. And his eyes caught sight of faint lipstick marks around the corner of Mike's mouth.

"I ordered wine for us," he said, voice a little colder than normal.

Mike seemed to wince slightly at his tone. "Thanks." He drank some of his water and finally just settled on staring at the silverware. "So, how was work?"

"Same as always. Slow without you there," Harvey said honestly. It seemed like he was slogging through quicksand without Mike's brain to speed the process along. Mike had brought up maybe accepting that job offer the other day, and Harvey had secretly planned this dinner to celebrate. But now his good mood was evaporating quickly. He knew it wasn't really fair, that they weren't dating or anything. And all they had done was kiss, and it was wrong to ask more from Mike yet, but he still was growing sullen at the scent on Mike's clothes and the red around his mouth.

"Sorry," Mike said sincerely. "I can come in tomorrow, if you want."

Harvey leaned back and said, "You like the silverware?"

Mike stared at him in confusion. "Uh-"

"Maybe you should check out the knife," Harvey suggested almost bitterly.

Mike picked it up and looked at his reflection in the polished silver. There was lipstick on his mouth. He hastily scrubbed it off.

"Have a nice date?"

"What? No, it's not-"

Harvey raised a hand. "If you wanted to go out with someone other than me then the least you could have done was tell me."

"What are you talking about?" Mike asked him incredulously. He had grown more bold since he started to work with Harvey and the other Pearson Hardman employees. More like a normal, unabused man. But there was some fear still in his eyes at Harvey's tone, at his body language. And Mike's eyes flickered over to the wine and back to Harvey's raised hand.

It made Harvey pause a little. "You've been kissing someone, Mike. And you smell like them. I don't wear that cheap scent, and you don't wear cologne. I hope you chose someone better than the last one." He knew it was the wrong thing to say. It was a horrible thing to say. He closed his mouth in horror at himself. But it was too late.

Mike glared at him, hurt in his eyes. Finally he said in a quiet voice, "I guess I didn't..." And he angrily left the table and stormed out.

"Mike," Harvey called after him. He managed to follow him out a second later, all the way out to the street, but then he disappeared in the crowd of New Yorkers heading home. And worry gnawed at Harvey.

Where could Mike have gone? He could be anywhere. Anything could happen to him. How could he have been so insensitive. So stupid.

He called Mike's cell, but the kid didn't pick up. He sent him a text apologizing, and begging him to just come home. But he got no answer.

He went home to wait for him, in case he did show up there. He waited all night and woke late the next morning, startled, from a nightmare that Scott had taken Mike back and was killing him, laughing at Harvey.

After rushing into the office, he found Donna. "Please tell me Mike is here."

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?" Then her eyes slid to the side to look past him.

And there Mike was, in a cheap suit with a skinny tie, files in his hands. He gave Harvey a wary look and then avoided his gaze. "All your casework, Mr. Specter."

Harvey took the files and dumped them on Donna's desk, and amazingly she didn't protest. He reached out for Mike's shoulders but the kid stepped away, so he dropped his hands. "Mike...I'm sor-"

"Now that you're free, I want to take you to lunch," Mike cut him off.

And that was a surprise. Mike hadn't come home last night, and from the weight of those files he had apparently somehow gotten into the Pearson Hardman building and worked all night. And now he wanted to take Harvey to _lunch_? Harvey was too worried about upsetting him further, which was a new feeling he was finally starting to get used to. "Okay..."

He glanced at Donna but she shrugged discreetly.

Mike nodded and they headed downstairs into a cab, where Mike gave an address that Harvey could instantly tell wasn't in the best neighborhood. Mike was silent and Harvey didn't know how to fix something like this. It had never mattered before, and he didn't want to screw up. That nightmare was still plaguing him. He never wanted to hurt Mike, never wanted to send him back to Scott. Even if he _did_spend a day with someone else's lipstick and cologne on him.

They pulled up in front of what looked like a nightclub. Since it was early in the morning, it was closed, but Mike pulled out a key and as soon as Harvey entered he could tell it was a gay club. There was a man passed out at the bar who Harvey could only assume worked here, and he stared at Mike before recognizing the scent of the place. It smelled like the same cheap cologne Mike had smelled of last night.

"This is where you work," he said, realization dawning on him.

Mike's face was filled with what Harvey recognized on him was shame, but there was a little spirit in his eyes, like he was ready to defend his profession to the ends of the earth if he had to. "I'm a bartender. The lipstick is...well, it's part of the uniform, sort of. I usually shower before I leave, before you see me. But I had to stay late yesterday, and I didn't get a chance to stop and clean up before I met you." He sat down on one of the stools dejectedly and said, "So now you know. I'm not a college graduate. I don't belong at a law firm office. I bartend at a gay club. Not exactly Harvey Specter material, right?"

Harvey stared at him and finally shrugged. "I don't know, it's not as...classy as I usually prefer. But I mean, you work here so it can't be that terrible."

Mike gave him a small smile at that. "That's the most pathetic cheering up speech I've ever heard. Don't quit your dayjob."

Harvey smiled back but then his look turned serious. "You don't have to either. If you like working here, I mean."

"Harvey...back at the restaurant..." Mike stared at his feet and couldn't seem to finish.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"You did. You don't say things you don't mean. That's what I like about you." Mike's look was defiant when he met Harvey's eyes, daring him to contradict. "But I didn't mean what _I_said. I _did_choose better."

Harvey didn't know how to respond. He wanted to pull Mike close and kiss the air out of him, but all he could seem to do was stare incredulously at this man that no matter how rude Harvey had been, only ever seemed to like him more.

"Mike..." Harvey said softly, and it was probably the most vulnerable he had ever let himself be since he was sixteen years old and had thought his family was going to stay happy forever. "Go out with me."

Mike's face slowly morphed into a smile and then he was laughing. But he didn't point out that they had been making out for weeks, or that he was living with him, that they fell asleep on the couch together more than they slept in their own rooms. He just smiled and said, "Okay. I'll go out with you."

* * *

**Also, thank you to all of you who left kind reviews last time! I loved them so much! You guys are the best! 3**


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